Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Portugal and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Mary Jane Girls to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Sällskapet,
MC5,
June of 44,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cymande,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bronski Beat,
Dead Boys,
E-Dancer,
Thompson Twins,
Hot Snakes,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun City Girls,
Todd Rundgren,
the Swans,
The J.B.'s,
Piero Umiliani,
Buzzcocks,
Matthew Bourne,
Sandy B,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Normal,
Eddi Front,
the Human League,
Derrick May,
Bill Near,
Sight & Sound,
Jerry's Kids,
K-Klass,
Nico,
The Monochrome Set,
Cal Tjader,
Easy Going,
Stiv Bators,
OOIOO,
Aloha Tigers,
Scan 7,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sister Nancy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Cure,
Newcleus,
Mission of Burma,
The Blackbyrds,
A Certain Ratio,
Boz Scaggs,
Pantaleimon,
Monks,
Dual Sessions,
Sam Rivers,
Mars,
Nils Olav,
The Searchers,
The Neon Judgement,
Whodini,
L. Decosne,
Black Flag,
Scientists,
Davy DMX,
Simply Red,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.